But there was one thing that the old man could hardly help laughing at, and that was that at one time he had really thought that his own hands were not quite clean. He smiled now and shook his head; it was too funny. He remembered, too, now, that at that dinner in town Wangen had asked him to stand surety. But that they had then gone to the Grand and signed——? It was incredible audacity to say such a thing!
It was what his wife always said—he was often too kind-hearted, especially in good company; and because he was kind-hearted, he had believed that if Wangen could go and say he had stood surety there must be something in it. He did not know then what a scoundrel the fellow was.
And now at last there would be peace in the district again, and labour conditions would be decent once more. Perhaps some people believed some of the calumnies about him. Well, let them believe them! He lived on his farm, and cared for no one.
But it was hard on Wangen’s wife. They said she had taken to her bed after the trial.
When Norby got home he found Fru Thora of Lidarende in the drawing-room. She had come to say that half the district, with the authorities at their head, had subscribed to a dinner in his honour.
“Nonsense!” he said, laughing; for at first he would not believe it at all, but when she asked what day would suit him, he sighed and considered. It must be true then.
In a little while he answered: “Well—I can’t go to any sort of entertainment as long as some one is lying dead here.”
Marit Norby looked at him in surprise, but understood at once that it would be useless to dispute the matter.
When Fru Thora went away she was almost disappointed because the old man had not been more touched by the dinner. “It’s possible to be too proud,” she thought.